The two tie the superheroine to a cart and lock her in a closet.

The two henchwomen waste no time making a production out of it.

They giggle and coo as they guide Velvet Vixen over to an old industrial cart—one of those sturdy, low-slung steel platforms on wheels. Kendrick stumbles slightly in her heels, her cape dragging behind her, arms still bound, cheeks flushed with heat.

“Easy, sugar,” Delilah purrs. “We wouldn’t want you falling and scuffing that shiny little corset.”

“Ohhh, she’s blushing again,” the blonde giggles. “You’re loving this.”

Kendrick tries to protest, but her voice catches in her throat when she’s eased down onto the cold metal surface. They start tying her in place—slowly, almost lovingly—using thick silken rope from a nearby crate. Her wrists are re-bound behind her, ankles lashed tightly together, and then strapped to the cart's metal frame. Another loop slides across her waist. Then her chest. Then her thighs.

By the time they’re done, she’s wrapped up tight, lying flat on her back like the world’s most glamorous package. One of the henchwomen balls up a silk scarf and ties it securely over her mouth.

“There. Now you’re officially part of the furniture,” the blonde says with a wink.

Delilah runs her fingers along the knots with a satisfied little hum.

“Damn, we did good.”

Velvet Vixen lets out a soft, involuntary moan behind the gag and squirms—just a little. The rope squeezes her tighter. The cart creaks beneath her.

The girls pause.

Then laugh.

“Oh, she’s into it,” the blonde says, clutching her stomach.

“Capone might wanna keep this one,” Delilah adds. “Like, as a rug.”

They roll her across the floor, one pushing from behind, the other strolling alongside, occasionally trailing a finger along her hip. Velvet Vixen’s heart pounds harder with every wheel squeak.

With a little theatrical flair, they open a supply closet, wheel the cart inside, and shut the door with a satisfying click. A key turns in the lock.

“Sweet dreams, Vixen,” comes Delilah’s muffled voice through the door.

Then silence.

Velvet Vixen is alone. Bound. Gagged. Locked away in the dark.

And, infuriatingly… kind of enjoying it.